Читать книгу A Perfect Pair - Jen Safrey - Страница 12

Josey’s mother was talking her ear off. As usual. Josey held the phone slightly away from her head, angling the receiver toward the ceiling, but her mom’s voice carried so far she may as well have been sitting in Josey’s living room. It wasn’t that her mother was loud or nagging or annoying. She was just—exuberant. About everything.

“I swear, I put this slipcover on the sofa—this slipcover that I bought for $12.99, Josey—and the sofa looks like an entirely different piece of furniture. I’ll buy you one, too, honey. Just name the color—”

“Mom.” Josey interrupted. “You don’t have to do that for me.”

“Oh, honey, your sofa is so—so…” Josey knew her mother wanted to say “ugly” or “disgusting” but was tactfully choosing her words, not wanting to insult her daughter. “So young-looking. Like you bought it at a garage sale your first year out of college.”

“That is where I bought it.”

“My point exactly, Josey-Posy. So I’ll pick one up for you, and when you come to the reading, I can give it to you then. Is there anything else you need for your place? They had dish towels on sale, too….”

Josey marveled at the way her mother prattled on. To listen to her, any stranger would think she was a crazy old lady, with nothing else to do in her life but take on her daughter’s interior decorating. But she was a young woman, only fifty, with many priorities, including her work at a travel agency.

“Mom,” Josey interrupted again. “How’s the wide world of travel? Any hot destinations I should look into?”

“Aruba’s always hot. Hawaii.”

“I meant hot as in popular, not hot as in ninety-five degrees. Where are the available men flocking to this year?” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Josey regretted them.

“Actively looking, are we?” her mother asked, the teasing not quite fully masking the parental interest.

“Mother,” Josey said sternly. “No. Forget I said anything. What’s Dad up to?”

“Oh, you know your father.” Her mom sighed with a resignation Josey knew was completely exaggerated. “It’s a beautiful day outside. Just gorgeous. The Cape tourists are swarming the streets and cafés. And your father is sitting in the study, piddling around on the computer.”

Josey smiled. “Piddling around” meant working on his next book, and her mother was fully aware of this fact. Josey saw her mother in her mind’s eye, rolling her aquamarine eyes and shaking her yellow-blond head at her father, hunched over his desk, amid forty books filled with equations and theorems.

“So I guess he can’t come to the phone.”

“Do you need to talk to him? I’d be happy to make him come out of that cave into the sunshine. Do you know when he’ll emerge? At dinnertime. At sunset.”

“Well, that’s only about a half hour or so from now.”

“That’s it. I’m getting him.”

“No, don’t, Mom. You used to work all day Saturday, too, don’t forget, until you hired a few agents. And that wasn’t all that long ago.”

There was a triple rap at Josey’s door, and as she called, “Yeah!” Nate walked in.

“How many times do I have to remind you to keep your door locked?” he demanded, ignoring the phone in her hand. “Any freak could just walk in here and—”

“Threaten me with a baseball bat?”

Nate grimaced. Josey chuckled, then put her mouth to the receiver again. “Sorry, Mom. Company.”

“Company by the name of Nathan?”

“Yup.”

“Put him on. I haven’t talked to him in ages.”

“We’re going out, Mom. To get some food and a movie.”

“Just for two minutes.”

“Okay, but I’m hungry. Don’t be long.” Josey shrugged and handed Nate the phone. “It’s Mom.”

Nate cradled the phone on his shoulder and focused on her ASPCA wall calendar while he talked. Or, rather, answered questions. “Margaret!… Fine. And you?…Work’s fine…. Oh, not too bad…. Derek’s great…. He started classes at Emerson…. Yeah, he wants to go into TV….”

Josey flopped onto the sofa and relaxed. He’d be on the phone forever. He liked her mother and wouldn’t want to be rude. So she’d talk and talk and he’d let her.

“She’s fine…. She is taking care of herself, working hard with her kids….”

Nate and her mother certainly had one thing in common—concern for Josey’s own welfare.

It was only her mother on the line, but he looked like he was on a business call, nodding and concentrating on the conversation. He didn’t pace around the room, stretching the cord out, the way Josey did. He just leaned against the wall next to her crammed bookcase, and he didn’t fidget. She imagined his manner must be a comfort to the victims and victims’ families he worked with daily. His empathy showed in his face—in his crinkled brow, his tight lips.

But his seriousness made his smile, when it appeared, all the more startling, Josey thought now. Startling, but very contagious—and handsome.

“Neil, how are you doing?” Nate said into the phone, and Josey sat up straight.

“You have Dad now? Mom made him stop working to talk to you?” she said in a stage whisper, and Nate shrugged at her. Unbelievable, Josey thought. They both adored this man.

Not that she blamed them, of course. Nate was…well, Nate. Worried and concerned and intelligent and even funny, when he put his mind to it. He wasn’t like any man—or any person, for that matter—that she had ever met. He willingly took on more responsibility than anyone would want to handle—his job, which probably had its rewarding moments but which Josey imagined an often depressing and sad line of work; his brother’s education and general well-being, which was ironic, since Nate was the younger of the two; and Josey herself, though she fought his protective meddling every step of the way.

Interesting that she and Nate hadn’t killed each other yet, Josey thought, tuning out his conversation with her father. They both often accused each other of being stubborn and strong-willed—she in her noisy, defiant way, he in his quiet, controlling one. But between them there was an unspoken agreement of acceptance—probably because they were so alike under the surface.

And on the surface, Josey had to admit to herself, Nate was looking pretty good. She studied him critically. His jeans and navy-blue sweatshirt looked right on him—as right as his lawyer suits. His running shoes were beat-up—possibly the one thing he owned that wasn’t in mint condition. He wore one piece of jewelry, his class ring. Josey had always thought a man who still wore his school ring was the sort who just couldn’t let go of his carefree college years, but Nate’s was a symbol of accomplishment. He never talked much about it, but she knew enough about him to gather that life had been hard for him and his brother. Their parents were dead, and the brothers had lived on their own for many years, practically broke.

His dark brown hair was still damp from a shower, since it was a two-second trip to her apartment from his. He smelled like soap and his familiar aftershave. Josey didn’t know the brand, but was sure that at any time in the future, no matter where she was, she’d be able to recognize it and connect it to this man.

Why was she getting so mushy all of a sudden? She jumped up off the couch, a sudden movement that earned her a reproachful look from Nate. She pointed to her watch. “Hey you, time’s a-wastin’. Give me the phone.”

Nate hastily formed some kind of closing remarks before Josey snatched the receiver back from him. “Dad?”

“Hi, Josey.” He sounded distracted, but Josey wasn’t insulted. It wasn’t unusual for him to have many thoughts going around in his head at once. The mistake would be to take offense and ask him what he was thinking, so that he’d bombard her with mathematical problems he was trying to solve.

“Dad, you’d better quit for the day and take Mom out to dinner.”

“Why, is she angry at me?”

Josey sighed. If her father wasn’t the classic absentminded professor, she didn’t know who was. She was positive her mother had been pestering him all day to leave his desk, but he was so wrapped up in what he was doing that he didn’t give her imploring much thought. Luckily, her mother loved him so much it would never really matter.

“Believe me. Just go, Dad.”

“I will. And you have fun, too, Josey. We’ll see you for the reading.”

“Can’t wait, Dad. I love you. Tell Mom I love her, too. I would have told her myself but she just had to talk to Nate.”

“I hope he’s keeping you out of trouble.”

“Who’s ever been able to keep me out of trouble?”

“Nobody,” her father answered with a laugh. “But I’m hoping he can keep an eye on my wildest girl.”

“I’m your only girl.”

They said their goodbyes and Josey hung up the phone with a dramatic sigh. “Ah, my parents. Sorry about that, Nate.”

“Don’t apologize. They’re great.”

“If that’s how you feel, I’m just going to give them your phone number. Then my mother can call you at all hours of the day. Maybe she’ll buy you some new dish towels.” Josey giant-stepped across the living room and grabbed her bomber jacket—worn out enough to give the impression that it had gone through a war—off the lopsided rack in the corner. “You’re to keep an eye on me. Keep me out of trouble.”

“So I’m told. By both your parents. What have you ever done in your life that would make them think you need me?”

“Absolutely nothing.” Josey pushed her arms into her jacket sleeves. “Whatever you’ve heard, it’s a big fat rumor.” She stood in the middle of the room and tried to compose her face into an innocent, good-girl expression.

Nate reached over her head and, with both hands, adjusted an imaginary halo.

“Yes, that’s perfect,” he said. “An angel in leather.”

He stared straight into her face, from very close to her face, a half smile playing on his mouth. The skin on Josey’s upper lip grew moist. Then she shook her head quickly.

“In your dreams, Bennington,” she retorted. She crossed the room, flung open the door and made a grand, sweeping gesture with her arm. “After you, sir.”

The video store was a mob scene. Customers were wandering the aisles in search of the perfect viewing experience. Couples were arguing and bargaining, trying to choose between action films and romantic comedies. Nate had pushed into the store ahead of Josey, and as he made his way to the New Releases section—saying “excuse me” over and over—he turned and rolled his eyes at Josey.

She grinned back. “The Saturday night scene,” she said. “Hey, pick something fast. We still have to get the Chinese food.”

“No problem. Give me sixty seconds,” Nate replied, reaching the section. Josey always let him choose the movie. Usually he selected exactly what she would have chosen, anyhow. And if the flick turned out to be a real stinker, she still had a blast with Nate, making fun of it the whole way through, sometimes even muting the sound so they could create their own hilarious and racy dialogue. Movie nights with Nate were never disappointing.

While he scanned the shelves, Josey scanned the clientele. It was mostly date night in here, but she figured it wouldn’t hurt to check people out. And just as she was thinking this, she spied a man in Foreign Films, reading the back of a video box.

His trench coat gaped open to reveal a smoke-gray suit. His trouser legs were slightly rumpled, as if he’d been sitting at a desk all day. He was leaning on the shelf comfortably, seeming in no rush to make up his mind. Josey craned her neck to see his left hand under the box he was reading.

No wedding ring.

“I made a decision.”

Josey whirled at the sound of Nate’s voice close to her ear. “You scared me!”

“I’m sorry, but you…” His eyes traveled to where she had been staring. “Ah, I was picking a movie, but you were busy checking out the merchandise yourself.”

Josey poked him in the arm. “I was just looking, that’s all.” The man glanced up then, catching her watching him, and she felt stupid for about two seconds while he held her gaze. Then he smiled amicably. But when he glanced behind her, his smile dissolved into a slight frown and he went back to his video.

Josey turned and saw Nate glaring in the man’s direction. She pushed him behind a big Disney display.

“What is wrong with you, Nate? You’re going to ruin things for me.” If she peeked over Minnie Mouse’s head, she could check the man out without him seeing her.

“What things? You don’t have any ‘things’ with that guy. You don’t even know who the hell he is. Or do you?”

“No, I don’t. Why are you being so negative? Don’t you remember my plan? Well, I may have my first candidate.”

“That guy?” Nate scowled. “You look at him for twenty seconds and you’ve decided he’s perfect?”

“He has potential, that’s all I’m saying.”

“What potential, for crying out loud?”

Josey felt herself getting defensive. She would be uncomfortable going up to a total stranger and starting a conversation—and trying to make a date—in a video store. Most of her dates were men she already knew via friends or relatives, or had met previously at gatherings of some kind. But there was this urgency in her she couldn’t explain…and here it was, one week after telling Nate her plan, and she had no date. No life-changing possibilities. She had to take some kind of step here.

“He’s in the foreign films section,” she stated, her gaze darting from Nate’s wry face to the man and back again. “Which is frequented by the more intelligent, educated person, I’d say.”

“The only thing it means,” Nate replied dryly, “is that he can read subtitles. That would require, maybe, a third-grade education at the most.”

Josey was determined to make Nate agree with her. “Look at him. He’s dressed like a—like a lawyer.”

“Or a used-car salesman. Or a porn mag publisher. Or a mobster.”

“Why are you making this difficult for me?”

“Because of the way you’re going about this, Josey. You’re checking him out mechanically. Scientifically. You haven’t even said he’s cute or handsome.”

Josey peered back at the man. He put the video box back, behind the long white band of elastic that stretched from one end of the shelf to the other, holding the videos in place. He moved one long finger along the row of titles, selected another, pulled it out from behind the elastic and examined it. His blond hair was cropped short, almost in a military style. His face was all-American boy-next-door, but otherwise nondescript. She wasn’t about to admit that to Nate, however. After all, the man wasn’t ugly. “He’s perfectly nice looking,” she finally said.

“Perfectly nice looking. That’s strong. Why don’t you just go up to him and ask him to marry you right now? Obviously, from what we’ve seen, he’s the man for you. Maybe you can catch a justice of the peace at this hour. I’ll go along, be a witness—”

“Oh, will you stop it? When did you become so sarcastic?” Exasperated, Josey continued, “Go pay for that. Go stand somewhere else. I don’t want him to think I’m with you.”

Nate’s mouth dropped open. “Are you kidding me? I—”

“Nate!” Josey’s words sounded to her own ears a lot like whining. “You promised you’d help me.”

“I didn’t promise this.”

“Okay, this is an extenuating circumstance. I didn’t come here looking for a date. Please just don’t mess this up.”

They stared at each other with an obstinate clash of wills. Nate never let her win. He shouldn’t let her win now, he thought. He couldn’t understand why he was so against this—walking away so Josey could make a date with a decent-looking, probably perfectly nice guy. But something in the back of his mind nagged him, pushing and pulling at him, telling him it was a bad idea and he should stop her. Dammit, he thought, she can do whatever she wants.

“Fine, Josey.” Nate started to back off, but Josey grabbed his hand and shoved him in the other direction, where he wouldn’t have to pass Foreign Films.

“Nate…”

“You’re paying for the Chinese food,” he said, pointing a finger at her, close to her nose, “and don’t give me any ‘teacher’s salary’ crap.”

Josey’s smile lit up her face so brightly, he half expected all the customers to reach into their pockets and purses and pull out their sunglasses. “Thank you, Nate.” She ran both hands through her golden hair, then blew him a kiss. Nate stubbornly turned toward the cash register before the airborne affection could touch him.

The line was about six miles long, but for the entire time Nate stood there, he refused to glance toward Foreign Films. He wasn’t sure how Josey was doing, but he couldn’t imagine it was too badly. He figured that whoever the man was, he’d have the good sense to be flattered. Nate knew that if he was out alone on a weekend, browsing through movies, and Josey walked up to him, he’d be amazed at his luck.

Again he resisted the urge to glance over to see how she was faring. She’d tell him when they got outside. She kept no secrets from him.

“Next?” the girl at the register snapped, and Nate realized she’d probably had to say it more than once. He dropped the video box on the counter, but just as he went to pay the girl, an enormous clattering sound at the back of the store caused everyone to turn around, including Nate.

There stood Josey, red-faced, sheepish. At her feet was a huge pile of videos, and more were landing on the floor from the now nearly empty shelf beside her hip. As each one dropped, Josey flinched. The elastic that had held the videos in place had somehow caught on her purse strap and snapped, releasing all the boxes. It was still dangling there, next to her elbow.

Nate clapped a hand to his forehead and shook his head slowly. Josey caught his gaze, her own eyes desperate. Then she knelt on the floor and began frantically scooping up boxes.

Nate left his rental on the counter and started to her rescue, but the trench-coated man was suddenly kneeling beside her. Nate stopped in his tracks as the man whispered something in Josey’s ear, and she threw her head back and laughed. Then the two of them began picking up the videos and stacking them.

Nate grabbed the video and his change, turned on his heel and stalked out of the store, ignoring the indignant “Hey!” of the person behind him when he neglected to hold the door open. He leaned against the brick wall and inhaled the fishy smell of the spring breeze, carried from Boston Harbor.

Josey and her new friend seemed to be bonding quite nicely. He’d just wait for her here.